


Don't let them scream.

by Lauren_is_a_moron



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Hostage Situations, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Phil is basically drugged, kind of funny, well I think it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauren_is_a_moron/pseuds/Lauren_is_a_moron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: There’s a sound sensitive bomb and a crowd of screaming fangirls. There are seven hostages and six unlikely bad guys. Welcome to radio 1’s unity festival!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't let them scream.

**Author's Note:**

> idk

“Welcome to BBC Radio 1’s Unity Festival! Where the Internet and Radio collide!” a BBC radio one DJ yelled excitedly to a crowd of screaming fans, who echoed his greeting with a stage-shaking simultaneous cry of excitement.  The DJ laughed at them. “I swear you guys are going to knock the stage down!”

“The dentist said I have to have a tooth out,” Dan’s voice was muffled slightly on the phone, sounding very-much like the twenty four year old was munching on something.

Phil Lester stood, leant against the curtain of the stage with his phone to his ear. “Mmm,” Phil smirked, even if Dan couldn’t see it. “And are you surprised?” he let out a laugh. “Dan, you ate thirteen Jaffa cakes last night!”

“I still brushed my teeth!” Dan argued, but Phil could tell the younger boy was laughing. The line was shaky as Dan was sat on the tube. Phil heard his friend sigh and it sounded like Dan was turning the pages of a newspaper or book. “So, how’s the festival?” Phil flinched slightly at Dan’s question.

“It’s..going okay, I guess?” he replied, his good-mood fading fast. The atmosphere back-stage was hard to stand. He hadn’t talked to a single webstar all morning. He felt like it would be awkward to just wander over and be like: “Oh, hi! I’m really sorry about you guys being cut from the station, but me and Dan are still on, so that’s cool right?” He’d spoke to his BBC colleagues though, who were clearly clueless about the situation.

It was the day of the Unity Festival; “Where the internet and radio collide!” – which was ironic, because the BBC were cancelling the Internet Takeover cause of cuts. The festival was a sort of good-bye to the Youtube stars. Though the BBC were keeping Dan and Phil. They had signed a new contract to start a new show as soon as they had done touring.

 Phil inwardly groaned to himself. He wished Dan was here. If he was, it would be a little less…awkward. “Phil, are you okay?” Dan’s tone dropped slightly, and he shook his head and sighed “Yeah, I’m fine!” he lied.

“And the event?” Dan was definitely chewing on something. Phil rolled his eyes. When was that boy going to learn.

 “Yeah, it’s pretty cool!” he replied. “They’re just introducing it now.” Phil fiddled with the curtain which separated him and the others from the crowd. 

“I bet it’s loud.” Dan laughed down the phone, and Phil looked around the space they were using as a back-stage. There were various YouTube stars in makeup, messing around with their vlogging cameras, or actually rehearsing to themselves. He caught Zoe Sugg’s eyes and sent her a thumbs up, but she wasn’t smiling. She turned away quickly away from him and wandered over to Alfie Deyes, who was muttering into his phone.

Nerves. Phil told himself, raising his phone back to ears. “When are you getting here?” he asked, slightly desperately. Phil was due to make an announcement in half an hour, which would surely bring down the mood. He gritted his teeth nervously, wrapping one arm around his chest. Why did _he_ have to do it?

Phil winced slightly at the volume of the fans screams as they screeched their greeting to the DJ’s stood on-stage. “Are you all ready?!” one of them yelled, followed by an either louder, if that was even possible, crowd scream. “Yeah, its loud.” He smirked to himself, holding his phone in front of him to capture the noise. Dan laughed, his voice crackling with static. “Okay wow.” The younger man said, making him smile.

 He couldn’t seem to stop his hands shaking. Yeah, he was nervous. He’d been on-stage at countless radio 1 festivals, though this one was different. This time it was hosted by both radio and YouTube stars. He leant against the man-made planks of wood that made up the infrastructure of the stage. Phil sighed, waiting for Dan to remember he’d put his phone down. “Just a sec Phil,” Dan’s voice came through a few seconds later and he couldn’t help laughing. “Did you forget you put your phone down?” there was an audible silence and Phil could practically _hear_ Dan’s smirk. “Yes.” Dan said a few seconds later. Then: “So, what time are we due to go on?” there was a bleeping noise on the other side of the line. “Dude, I don’t think I can make the announcement.” Phil’s heart sank slightly. “Oh..really?” he couldn’t help his voice cracked. His chest tightened and he turned his head, his phone still pressed to his ear, to see Zoe and Alfie standing a few meters behind him. Staring at him. Phil swallowed. He couldn’t help it. They’re teasing me, he thought, while forcing a smile their way. Zoe smiled back. But there was something uneasy in her expression. Alfie just stared.

“Okay, that was weird..” Phil muttered, going back to his phone. There was more static on the line, followed by a shuffling noise. “Hmm?” Dan was clearly more interested in what he was reading. Phil shrugged and tried not to think about the two web stars behind him, burning holes into his back with their stares. “It’s nothing..” he said, then sighed. “Dan, I don’t think the others are happy about the cancellation.”

Dan snorted. “Really, Phil?” he shot back sarcastically, and Phil felt a pang of irritation. Dan wasn’t taking things seriously. Yet again. “Phil, some of them are millionaires,” Dan said. “They don’t need the radio.”

But people loved the internet takeover, he thought bitterly. It was the perfect way to introduce new content onto the station, while giving new web stars a chance at getting into the industry. He thought about Alfie and Zoe’s expressions and his stomach flipped. “Dan, you don’t understand- Zoe and Alfie were just…” he shuffled uncomfortably, lowering his voice.  “I don’t know, they were just…staring at me?”

There was a moments silence before Dan replied. “Jesus Christ Phil, call the police.” Dan was teasing him now, and Phil rolled his eyes. But thinking back, it wasn’t exactly _hate_ in the couple’s eyes, but it _was_ something. Jealously? He sighed, leaning back in the chair. It wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but if he stood up he’d probably end up getting that nervous sickly feeling again. “No, it was..” he heard someone say his name and ignored it. Maybe intentionally. “It was..?” Dan prompted him with a sigh. “Phil, I swear to god, you’re worse than me for being paranoid.” The younger boy chuckled and Phil groaned. “No, listen to me. It was-“

“Phil!” someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped, nearly dropping his phone. He turned in his chair, finding himself facing Zoe and Alfie once again. This time they were smiling at him. “Hey!” he grinned at them, relief flooding him. They were just playing around. “Dan, I’ve got to go. Get here soon?” he said into his phone, and Dan laughed and said he’d be there. “Oh and Phil, make sure Zoe and Alfie don’t go on a murder spr-“ Phil shut off the call before Dan could finish. Zoe waited for him to slip his phone back in his pocket, one hand on her hip. She smiled brightly at him, her lips a glowing scarlet red. “Philll,” she dragged out his name in that too-happy tone she used in her videos. Phil smiled politely. “Yeah?” he couldn’t help notice it had gone quiet outside. Zoe’s smile got wider. “Could you possibly postpone the announcement?” she asked.

Phil stared at her for a second. There was a schedule of the whole thing. Numbers and times- the BBC boss had lectured earlier to the bunch of them. Things had to be on bang on time. Phil fought back the overwhelming urge to question her. “Uh, okay?” he cleared his throat. “But –wait, doesn’t it have to be two o clock?”

He could still hear the crowd, but there was nobody audibly on stage. Zoe folded her arms, retaining her smile. Alfie stood there, his eyes glued to his phone. He hadn’t put it down all morning, Phil thought dismissively. Zoe laughed. “Well, yeah- but you’ll wait a few minutes right?” she grinned at him with way too many teeth, and he found himself nodding in fear of the girl lunging forwards and biting his head off.

That wasn’t Zoe, he thought sadly. She hadn’t been right with him or Dan for months. Neither had anyone, really. I mean yeah they did collaborations, but they felt fake and both of them knew it was for the fans.

“Yeah, sure.” Phil smiled, making a mental note to ask one of the DJ’s if Zoe’s proposition was confirmed. Zoe nodded and smiled. “Okay! Well, see you out there!” he swore she winked at him, before dragging Alfie away.

“Shit!” he heard someone- a familiar voice- yell. Nick Grimshaw. The DJ was famous for yelling and his entire breakfast show was a scream-fest, but the muffled yell which followed his yell, grabbed Phil’s attention. He whipped around, and found himself watching Tanya Bur and Louise sat cross-legged discussing a magazine in Louise’s hands. “Phil?” Zoe stepped into his line of vision and he blinked, shaking his head. “Yeah?” he shook off his suspicion. Nick’s DJ pals were probably messing around with him. He caught Zoe’s worried look and forced a smile. “Oh yeah, sorry,” he laughed. “I was miles away.” The girl’s eyes lingered on him for longer than necessary before she shrugged. “Okay, cool. Just don’t lose it, okay?” she smirked and walked over to join Louise and Tanya. 

Okay, that was weird, he thought. Zoe and Alfie were his friends, of course they were messing around. Phil shook his head and tried to supress the bad feeling building in his stomach. He wandered idly over to the refreshments table and picked up a glass of water, taking a sip. He eyed the food, smiling a little. It resembled eight year old’s birthday tea party. There were plates of mini sausage rolls and daintily made sandwiches. His stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten breakfast, since Dan had left early to get to a dentist appointment. They’d had no milk and he couldn’t be bothered going to the shop to get some. Phil picked up a tuna mayo triangle and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it hungrily before he had properly chewed it.

“Someone’s hungry.” He turned, still chewing, to see Caspar Lee standing there holding a glass of what looked like coke. “Thirsty?” Caspar smiled kindly, offering him the glass. Phil beamed, taking it. Caspar hadn’t gone weird with him like the others. They’d had an in-depth talk this morning about camping trips as kids.

“Thanks!” Phil took a sip, sighing when the icy old liquid quenched his thirst and refreshed him. Caspar nodded, shrugging. “It’s cool,” and then the guy was smirking at the paper plate Phil had piled with mini sausage rolls and bourbon creams. “Kinda reminds me of a kid’s party?” Caspar picked up a mini shortbread and crumbled it in his fists, letting half drop on Phil’s plate. Phil smiled. “Uh, yep.” He looked up to see Caspar smiling at him. Though it wasn’t friendly- but not really menacing either. It was just uneasy. The boy looked like he was waiting for something. “Uh, when am I meant to go on stage?” Phil set the glass back on the table and his head suddenly spun. For a second Caspar had two heads in his line of vision. “Whoa.” Phil forced a laugh, but his vision had started to blurry. “You okay?” Caspar snorted and slapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be nerves, mate,” and then at the sound of his name being called, Caspar grinned at him before walking away.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, nerves.” But Caspar was gone, and he let out a short laugh, but he wasn’t sure why. The crowd were still screaming outside, so he wandered over to the curtain, sweeping it back discreetly and poking his head out. The fresh air was cool against his skin, and he smiled lazily. The sky was a strange colour- a pretty mixture of blue and purple. Phil squinted. Or was it? He let his gaze wander over the crowd of people. His legs felt strange, they felt like he was walking on jelly. He laughed at that, to himself of course. “Wait, what?” he muttered to himself. When was he going on stage again? He reached into his pocket to grab his phone, but his arms didn’t seem to be working properly. His fingers felt like sausages on the screen as he tapped Dan’s number and held it to his ear. “Hello?” Phil frowned at his phone. “Hey, Dan? Are you there?”

“Dan?” he frowned and glanced down at his phone. His head spun once more and he stumbled backwards slightly, catching himself on the curtain. “Daaannnn?” his phone-screen was black. Phil tapped it a few times, feeling a laugh coming on. Oh! he giggled to himself. His phone was off! He fingered the on switch while he once again looked out across the crowd. Phil blinked. There were so many fans, they kind of resembled potatoes. He laughed at that. Out loud. Then he smiled down at his phone. His home-screen was him and Dan during a marathon of a TV show he’d forgotten the name of….Phil rubbed his head. What TV show was it?

“Phil? Ten minutes!” someone yelled. Some Youtuber he had forgotten the name of. Phil nodded and smiled. “Coolio!” he yelled back, not turning around. He stood for a minute, staring out into the crowd of potatoes- no, girls. He blinked again. No, they were girls. Definitely girls. He squinted at a sign which a girl was holding up as she sat on her friend’s shoulders, swaying to the music being blasted across the field of screaming fans.

“Marty me?” Phil laughed at the sign, once again finding it really hard to stand up. He had to hold the curtains to keep himself on foot. “Marty?” Phil squinted again. His head was really starting to spin now. He felt like he was on a roundabout. “Phil!” someone was standing in front of him waving their hand in his face. He smiled at them. “What?” he tried to raise his own arms to wave them off, but they were dead weights at his side.

“Phil? You okay there, mate?” the person was slightly blurry, and he could just make out their face. He found himself nodding, smiling. The person was Joe Sugg, who was smiling for some reason. “There’s a sign-“ Phil started to laugh, and the blur of colours which was Joe Sugg, laughed too. “It says Marty me?” Phil felt his words slur slightly, and laughed at that. Wow, he needed to sleep. He’d had like twelve hours last night.

Twelve hours? Phil shook his head with a smile. That wasn’t enough. He’d had to be  getting at least three hours.

“Mm, I’m good.” Phil held his hand out for a high-five, but Joe just shook his head with a smirk. “Dude, are you _sure_ you’re cool to go out there in five minutes?” Phil nodded. Well, at least he _thinks_ he nodded. His vision was too blurry to figure out if he was nodding or shaking his head. “Joe, do I sound okay?” his words were strung together now, and he wasn’t sure if he was speaking English. “I mean, is it me, or do I sound weird?” Phil felt like he was in a tunnel. Joe’s words echoed and he swore the boy’s face blew up two sizes than normal. Joe laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You sound great!” he smiled reassuringly.

“Okaay, great!” Phil tried to return the gesture, but instead he stumbled over his feet, ending up falling into Joe, who helped him up with a laugh. “It’s nerves, Phil.” He patted Phil on the back before helping him stand up straight. “You okay?” Joe’s face was mixed with different colours, a bit like the “wind-tunnel” effect on photo booth. He nodded. “I’m great.” He grinned back. Joe let him go and he stumbled before righting himself.

“Right, well good luck!” the youtuber couldn’t seem to stop smiling, and Phil felt a sense of happiness. Things were different after-all! Joe was _happy_ they were cancelling the takeover! “No, gurd luck to you!” Phil tried to high-five him again, but Joe, still laughing, backed away a few steps before wandering off. Actually, was Joe still there? Phil felt the air in front of him, which was hazy and streaked with squiggles and zigzags. “Joe?” he grasped at thin air, frowning when his hands made no contact.

Once he found Joe was gone, Phil realized that standing wasn’t easy. Every few seconds he’d lose his footing and end up nearly face-planting the rough concrete of the backstage floor. This wasn’t good. If he could barely stand, how was he going to announce the Brit award?

Time seemed to blur into one as he stared out at the crowd and tried to figure out what the signs the jumping up and down blobs were holding said. He squinted, catching the sudden struggling form of a familiar face being dragged through the crowd by somebody in a mask. The fans were too busy screeching when PJ Liguori and Chris Kendall walked onto the stage to introduce a short-film they had made.

Phil couldn’t seem to concentrate on PJ’s words, as the guy spoke into the microphone excitedly. Well, PJ wasn’t really making much sense. Was the guy speaking in tongues? Phil held himself up with the silky curtains and dared a look back into the crowd. The struggling figure was still there and being dragged violently across the field, their attackers hand placed firmly over their mouths. “Wait, that’s..” Phil blinked rapidly at the struggle, but his vision was going blurry fast. “Hey!” he shouted, or tried too. All that came out of his mouth was the letter H with way too much emphasis on it. He stumbled forwards . “Wait! There’s a – there’s a-“

“Phil, are you ready to go on?” somebody didn’t seem to be waiting for a reply, and their face was too blurry to see properly. “There was- uh..I think..I mean I feel a bit weird, but I swear I just saw-“ his words were coming out in a long slurred string, and just made whoever was forcefully pushing him onto the stage, laugh.

An indie band was just finishing their set as he stumbled to the side of the stage. “There was..um, somebody..I’m not sure what I saw but-“ The blurry faces around him didn’t seem to be listening. Somebody gave him a gentle push to walk on stage on the cue. 

“And now, we’re going to have an announcement by Youtube’s very own….AmazingPhil!” somebody yelled- and before he knew it, Phil was stumbling onto stage. The crowd went insane with girls screams, and it rang in his ears, making him flinch. When everyone eventually calmed down and waited for him to speak, he shook his head, willing the world to stop spinning.  “Uh…hi.” He said, which came out, to the crowd’s confusion, as “Bye.”

Phil definitely saw something. The name of the DJ being dragged away was on his tongue, but he couldn’t seem to say it, or even think of their name, because his mind felt like it was being dipped in candyfloss.

He had to tell Dan. Where even was Dan? He stared out across the crowd and tried to spot his friend who had been dragged away, but they and their attacker had disappeared.

Phil managed to stumble over to the microphone, as the crowd stared, bewildered. He reached the microphone and grabbed it, using it as balance, because he swore he was going to fall any second.

“I was um-“ he started to say, which was once again slurred, coming out as “asylum”. Some of the crowd laughed at that, while others looked confused and slightly worried.

“Good evening!” he decided on saying, which this time came out clearly. The crowd were all confused now; the majority of them staring at him, holding their phones up, filming the whole thing. “Phil, are you okay?!” one girl yelled. He didn’t know her name, but surely she would know what happened to his friend?

“I saw.. um..I think I saw…” he raked his mind, groaning out loud. What did he see again?

Phil gripped the microphone for dear life as his legs started to fail. Oh god, he thought, as he struggled to stand up, letting out a yelp as he very nearly performed the splits. The microphone stand tipped over, and he grasped for it, using it to pull himself back up. “Sorry about that,” he said to a now silent crowd. Nobody was screaming his name or waving signs. Nobody was even laughing. Every single person looked dumfounded.

“I..” Phil struggled to speak, his words catching in his throat. “I had a pet fish once.” He settled on saying, because why not? If he had forgotten the announcement, he might as well tell the crowd _something._

Don’t fall over, he told himself, before grabbing the entire microphone pole as if it was actual microphone, and speaking into it. “Before I tell you this story,” he slurred, his words coming out as broken English, “Can somebody tell me why that girls sign says ‘Marty me’?  I mean for one, if makes no sense whatsoever-“

“You mean _marry_ me?!” another fan shouted. Then; “Phil, are you okay?!” the crowd murmured in agreement, and Phil just laughed. At least he thinks he laughed. Maybe he sneezed. The world was spinning now, but it actually felt great. “I’m fine!” he told the crowd, then reassured them with a high five. Which they all missed pretty badly.

“So yeah,” he wasn’t sure if he was standing or sitting anymore, but he still grabbed the microphone. “When I was eight, I had a goldfish.”

 

-

“Could you possibly go a _little_ faster?”

“Company policy. I can’t go any faster than Thirty miles per hour.” The TAXI driver was fiddling with his car stereo with one hand on the wheel. His voice was stern, but Dan swore the guy was smirking. Dan let out an impatient sigh and stared down at his phone. He was late. He was so, so late. His mouth was still a little numb from the injection into his left gums. He ran his tongue over the sore spot and fiddled with his phone, which had just reached 26%. Phil wasn’t answering, and neither were Joe, Caspar or PJ. He eyed the time, his expression going sour. It was quarter past two, he’d missed the announcement. “Mate?” Dan couldn’t help whining, aware and uncaring that he sounded like a little kid. “Can you _please_ go just a bit faster?” he used his thumb and index finger to emphasize the speed, and the TAXI driver chuckled. “Are you meeting somebody?”

“No, I’m late for work.” Dan tried really hard not to grit his teeth, lifting up his BBC lanyard which was around his neck, to show the driver, who smirked. “Oh, really?” and Dan gave up any effort of being polite. “Look, there’s a _really_ important festival going on which is being hosted by my employers and-“ he shuffled in his seat, attempting to sit forward, but his seatbelt snapped him back rather violently into his seat.

The driver didn’t say anything else, only gave him warning glances when he even eyed the doors of the TAXI. Yeah, it might have been on Dan’s mind. Throw cash at the driver and make a run for it out of the TAXI, and RUN to the venue. It would be faster. Dan leant his head against the window, sighing to himself. At one point he had gone as far as calling Scott. But no answer. Of course.

  He stared outside as cars zipped by in the early afternoon sunlight. The driver turned the radio up, so if he _wanted_ to start complaining again, the TAXI guy was having none of it. “So;” The driver who must have been in his late twenties with dark skin and had a scar running down his left cheek. He smirked at Dan suggestively, and Dan felt his lips curl slightly. “You have a boyfriend?” the TAXI driver flashed a smile, and Dan caught a flash of gold, and suppressed the urge to laugh. “Uh..no, I’m- uh, I’m not gay, mate.” He replied.

The TAXI driver snorted. “Oh right. So is your earring just for fashion?” Dan decided to ignore that, and mentally prayed to every god that was real, that they were close to the venue. He didn’t think he could deal with Radio 4 any longer. But the TAXI driver loved it, and must have seen him pressing his face against the leather of his jacket trying really hard not to nod off.

Ten minutes later, the TAXI finally pulled up in the car-park which as being used for visitors, tour buses and transport. “Thank god,” Dan muttered under his breath, grabbing his bag and shouldering it. He unclipped his seatbelt and pulled on the door eagerly. It didn’t budge. “Hey!” Dan couldn’t help slamming his hands on the glass windows. “Can you let me out? I’m really late!” The TAXI driver shrugged. “Be p _atient_ , mate.”

_“_ Patient for what?” he spluttered, yanking on the door handle. When it finally clicked open, he dug in his pocket, pulled out a crumpled ten pound note, and quite literally threw it at the driver. “Keep the change!” Dan yelled as he stumbled out of the TAXI and power-walked through the car-park, passing maintenance people in bright green jackets, indie bands climbing back onto their coach each sporting cans of pop.

“Scuse me!” he was red-faced and out of breath as he pushed through families clutching ice-cream cones, and hoards of teenagers. Shit. He put his head down and prayed nobody saw him. He didn’t have time to sign anything or say hi. He managed to get through the mini-crowd of food-seekers and started to run across the field. Yes, he felt pathetic. He was two steps from having a heart attack, and he was sure his hair was a sweaty curly mess ontop of his head. The stage stood in front of him. Phil was right – it was packed. He kept his head down as he pushed through the crowd and made it to the front, legging it up the steps so he wasn’t spotted.

Eventually he made it. “So sorry I’m late-“he puffed out, groaning as he slipped through the curtain to the backstage area.  His chest was heaving. He really needed a glass of water.

 He wasn’t looking where he was going as he chucked his bag on a chair and peeled his jacket off. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked texts which had suddenly come through. So there had been no signal in the TAXI then. It took him a few seconds to realize it was silent, and he hadn’t completely taken in what was going in when he arrived. Dan’s gaze left his phone, and seemed to sweep across the room, and the more he stared, the more his gut clenched and his breath got shorter. “What..?” he breathed, taking a step backwards.

What he was staring at were six figures with black masks covering their faces, and every single one of them had a gun. Dan swallowed. And he swore in that moment, he was going to faint. The figures stood were in a sort of semi-circle around a familiar face. “Phil?” his throat was dry as he choked out his friend’s name. Phil turned at the mention of his name. “Dan, finally!” the man made a move to run to him, but instead he face-planted the floor, and to Dan’s surprise, actually laughed into the concrete. “You have no idea how many times I’ve done that today!” the elder boy giggled, his face still pressed to the floor. Then; “Wait, Dan? I can’t see you anymore.”

Dan was speechless. He stared at the six figures, individually, taking in not their masks, but what they were wearing. “What did you to him?” his voice was shaking. “Where are the BBC staff?”

One of the figures let out a surprisingly loud laugh, and he froze. He _knew_ that laugh. One of the figures took a step forwards and he automatically found himself backing away. Phil was still laughing at the floor, his face pressed against it. “Seriously Dan, where did you go? I have to make the announcement soon!” Dan winced at Phil’s words, which were very clearly slurred. Dan glared at the figures. “What is this?! Scooby Doo?!” he demanded, taking a risky step forwards. “I know who you are, so stop with the games!” he gritted his teeth.

None of the figures moved, and Dan, clearly agitated, let out a hiss of frustration. “What did you _do_ to Phil?!” he pointed at the elder boy, who was happily murmuring nonsense into the floor.

“Relax Dan,” one of the figures folded their arms, and he stared at them, trying not to look at the _gun_ his friend had clutched in their hand. “Joe?” he spluttered out a laugh. “This is a joke right?!”

“Afraid not, Dan.” Another figure stepped forward, their attire a strappy blue dress and pretty white heels. They lifted their gun, held in dainty well-manicured hands. “Help him up.” She said, and when he let out a shrill laugh and started to call them insane, she pointed the gun directly at _Phil._ “He’s not on planet earth right now, so I suggest you help him up, before I do something I really, really don’t want to do.” She said coldly.

Dan felt a shiver slip down his spine. “Okay,” he said shakily, and went over to Phil, kneeling next to his friend. “Phil, get up.” He grabbed the elder’s floppy arms and yanked Phil to his feet. “What did they do to you?” he muttered, staring at Phil’s eyes; the boy’s pupils were massive and there was a dopy grin on his face.

“Relax it’s just Rohypnol, he’s just a little dizzy,” another familiar voice made Dan want to lash out, but _her_ gun was still trained on them both. Dan glared at the six figures; and knew every single one of them. Phil kept slipping in his grip so he had to wrap his arms around the elder’s waist. “Dan?” Phil laughed at him. “Hey, you’re here! C’mon we need to do the announcement!” Phil jolted, obviously trying to run, but Dan tightened his grip on his friend. “Phil.” He said softly, trying not to grit his teeth. He kept his eyes trained on the six figures as he spoke. “Are you aware of what’s going on?” Phil nodded way too enthusiastically, but didn’t reply.

Okay, you’re no help. Dan stared at Phil, who couldn’t seem to hold himself up. His whole body was floppy and unresponsive. “Dizzy?” he let out a harsh laugh. “How much did you give him? He can barely stay awake!”

“Look, this isn’t about you. So shut the fuck up and listen, or you’ll join _them.”_ Another familiar voice hissed, and his blood ran cold. “Them?” he tried to keep hold of Phil, but the boy was slipping in his grasp, “The BBC DJ’s?” it clicked then, and everything seem to start to make a hold lot of fucked-up sense.

None of them answered, they only stood there in silence. If it wasn’t for their clothes and posture and the fact they were his _friends_ , he would be terrified. Well, he was terrified. But these people he had known for years, they wouldn’t hurt him or Phil. “So go on then,” he grumbled. “Where are the BBC staff?”

One of the figures – or Zoe, in her spotless dress and strappy heels, shouted something, her words muffled by her mask. And then a seventh person was appearing, holding a very angry and scared looking Nick Grimsahaw. “Dan.” The DJ glared at him as he could only stare in shock. “What the _fuck_ is this?!” Dan struggled to speak. “You think this is me?!” he shook his rapidly. “No, it’s them! What’s even going on?!”

The DJ shrugged. “I have no fucking clue! The festival! What about the festival, Dan? Your fucked up friends have kidnapped half the fucking BBC for what?!” the DJ tried to make angry gestures with his arms, but the masked seventh figure kept a tight grip on his shoulders. Dan sighed, eyeing Zoe’s gun. “Look, this is all a misunderstanding. Just let Nick and others go and we can talk about-“ he yelped when one of the figures shot his gun, aiming inches away from Dan. “What the fuck?!” he hissed, pulling Phil out of the way.

“The crowd are bored.” Zoe said in a deadpan voice. “Go out and entertain them.”

Dan opened his mouth to argue, but Zoe cut him off. “Look, we’ve planted a device where your friends are being held,” she cleared her throat, trying to sound threatening. “Loud noises activate it.”

Dan stared, dumfounded. “And?!” he spat. “You’re sick Zoe! You’re all fucking sick..” then when he was sure he wasn’t a target: “Where did you get _gun’s_ from, anyway?!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Another figure stepped forward. Alfie. “Dan, I think you know the score. Both you and Phil go out and entertain the crowd, or-“the man coughed then and swore loudly. “Shit!” he grabbed his mask and pulled it off. Dan just glared at Alfie Deyes- unmasked. Nick stared open-mouthed. Alfie looked flustered, his face bright red.

“Alfie, you put your mask on the wrong way!” Zoe giggled in her masquerade, and snatched Alfie’s from him, and slid it over his face for him. “Thanks Zoe.” His voice was muffled once more. Dan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Alfie lowered his voice then, going back to threatening Dan. “Like I said, if you don’t go on that stage…. _quietly_ ,” he laughed at that, and Dan frowned. “What do you mean _quietly?!”_

“If the crowd scream, the bomb goes off.” Nick answered for Alfie, who nodded. When Dan shot Nick a look, the DJ shrugged. “My friends are in there.” He muttered to himself, and then glared accusingly at Dan, as if HE was in a mask too, pointing a gun directly at him.

“Wait, if the crowd go crazy, the bomb will go off!” he hissed. He swore in that moment, Nick stopping struggling and hissing threats in his captors arms.

“What can I say? Everybody loves Dan and Phil,” Zoe sounded like she was smiling beneath her mask, and Dan really wanted to punch her. Point a gun at _her._ See how she liked it. “And if I don’t?” he could only spit, when two of the figures walked over and both pointed their guns at him. He had no choice but to carry Phil, who was drunkenly slurring to himself, over to the curtain. There was currently nobody on stage, and the crowd were getting restless. Dan turned and started to speak, but found himself staring directly down the barrels of two guns. “What do I do?!” he hissed. And then: “You’ll let the others go if I do this?!”

 “Never said that,” a voice, PJ, Dan thought bitterly. PJ – in his mask- stuck the butt of the revolver into Dan’s temple. “Dan, I’m not going to do it, but if you _don’t_ get on that fucking stage right now-“

“I will kill you when this is over,” Dan gritted his teeth as the cold steel of his friend’s gun protruded into his right temple. PJ nodded. “Mmm, okay, sure Dan.” And then he was being pushed onto stage, a drugged Phil in tow. The second he set foot on the stage, stumbling when PJ pushed him a second time after he refused to go the first. The crowd went insane as he wandered, disoriented, over to the microphone.

What the hell was he going to say?! He must look pale, his hair is a mess, and Phil is a floppy mess still in his arms. He took a deep breath and fashioned his mouth into a smile.  “Hi everyone!” he shouted into the microphone, and got a deafening screech from the crowd. Though he did notice some of the fans were staring at Phil. Who he had to physically _hold up_.  “Not so loud!” he forced a laugh, which, oh god, it made them scream louder. Phil seemed to be coming to slightly, he managed to stand up, with Dan’s help, and blinked rapidly, looking confused. “What- what happened?!” he whispered, and tried to take a step forwards, but he fell into Dan, who nearly lost _his_ footing. The crowd apparently loved that and started yelling and screeching.

“Just…follow my lead.” Dan murmured, and then cleared his throat into the microphone. He glanced at the side of the stage to see three of the masked figures waving at him. Fuck you. He wanted to kill them.

Trying hard not to grit his teeth, and yell for help, Dan smiled. “Are we – uh…enjoying ourselves?!” he yelled, and caught one of the figures miming something. They were telling him to act more enthusiastic.

“I’ll give you fucking enthusiastic”, he grumbled to himself, and then to the crowd, he stretched his grin as wide as it could go and yelled: “ARE WE ENJOYING OURSELVES?!”

“Dan I don’t feel well,” Phil hissed, and tried to straighten himself up, but ended up kicking Dan in the shin. As much as he tried to hold it in, Dan let out a yelp, and before he could stop himself, stumbled over Phil’s feet, face-planting the stage and letting go of Phil, who seemed to flop, like an inanimate object, straight ontop of him. Shit. Dan lay there with Phil’s face inches from his. The elder looked terrified and was trying to get up, but his limbs were limp. The crowd started screaming and cheering which made Dan wince.

Before he consciously knew what he was doing, he was jumping to his feet and facing the crowd. “No, no, no! Don’t- don’t do that!” he snapped at the hordes of screaming teenagers, who must have taken that as him saying something else, because to his dismay, they screamed louder.

_They knew this_ , Dan thought. They **know** that everything him and Phil did were going to make the crowd scream. He stared helplessly out into the crowd, trying to spot security, but there were none.

We’re completely screwed.

 

\--

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, that’s part one :D I’ m leaving it to Jamie to write the next bit :P :3
> 
> Tell me what you think?? :)


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